


New Worlds

by Lori_S21



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergence, M/M, what if
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-13 06:06:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18463025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lori_S21/pseuds/Lori_S21
Summary: I think Paul 'Jesus' Rovia would make an incredible leader of Hilltop.Daryl Dixon thinks so too.Just a sweet moment between our boys. They flirt, they tease, they have each other's backs.Exactly as it should have been.





	New Worlds

"Do you know…?”

Paul looked up from the knife he was sharpening, feeling the first stirrings of curiosity at Daryl’s hesitant question. 

He sat on the porch of Barrington House, enjoying the feel of warm spring sunshine on his face. The sounds of a bustling community washed over him, laughter and friendly chatter, reassuring him. It meant safety and security, life moving on. He’d somehow found himself partially responsible for these people - a role that at one time would have filled him with horror. But somehow he’d grown into it, found himself caring deeply about them, willing to fight for their safety. Peaceful days like this felt like victory, reclaiming the next world for themselves. He’d found himself smiling at the thought when the shadow of a certain surly archer with impressive arms fell over him.

Yes, he could tell it was Daryl by his shadow, but also by the quality of his silence as he watched Paul work. It was as though Daryl was really seeing him, weighing up every action as if working up to saying a simple ‘hello’ - needing to get it just right. As if Paul mattered that much. It made him feel hopeful. No wonder their simplest of interactions were filled with so many meanings for Paul to dissect later, pulling the layers apart and holding them close.

Like now for instance. Paul peered up at Daryl who looked almost nervous, twisting the material of his shirt between his hands. It wasn’t uncommon to see Daryl looking nervous, if you knew him well enough. If you didn’t, he seemed full of quiet confidence, a swagger in his step, looking rough and ready to fight the world. It wasn’t an act exactly, he could handle himself and was known to be headstrong on occasion, just another layer of protection.

Paul was gradually getting through.

It was hard to read his expression as the sun was trapped behind him, causing a Daryl-eclipse. It also gave him a fiery halo that Paul appreciated with a broadening smile, feeling a warmth flow through him that had nothing to do with the sun.

“‘Do I know’ what, Daryl?” Paul asked casually, finding his feet so he could get a read on the other man. And it felt vaguely absurd to be eye level with his waist… This was better.

Paul sheathed his knife back into his belt holster and pocketed the whetstone. He brushed the dust off of his hands before stretching lightly, having been hunched over for too long. His body went taut and his joints popped luxuriously, causing him to sigh in satisfaction.

Daryl looked decidedly pinker when he met his eyes. His hands stilled. Interesting. Not a reaction he had intentionally gone for, but very interesting. Paul fought down a grin.

“Hi by the way,” He added, grazing his hand over Daryl’s bicep, giving it a light squeeze because he can’t not. Daryl looks damn good in his black shirt with the sleeves rolled up, buttoned up just the right amount. Paul has found himself staring at that strip of exposed skin an unhealthy amount. It’s not entirely his fault. Due to their height difference it’s usually _right there._

Even now, standing on the step above Daryl, they were only just the same height. Daryl obviously knows this, crowded in a little closer and Paul thought he could see the glimmer of a smile in his eyes. Paul gets the feeling he often amuses Daryl. The man is just too stubborn the let the laughter out.

“Hi,” Daryl responded, a low rumble that makes Paul shiver. The way Daryl’s eyes have him pinned has him fighting to stay still, as though he is the one who is now nervous. Heat bloomed low in his stomach, just from a single word, the intensity of his gaze. Paul often thought it was ridiculous how into this man he is.

Paul licked his lips, a motion that Daryl tracked with a flicker of his eyes, shifted on the spot. Paul felt a flare of triumph. _Yeah that’s right. Your turn again._ “What were you saying?” He repeated innocently. 

Daryl stared at him for a beat longer, before looking away, apparently nervous once more. “Nothing.”

”Daryl…” He urged, kind but firm. 

“It’s stupid.”

“That is one word that could never be applied to you.” And Paul meant it. His words made Daryl examine him once again, head tilted to one side as though deciding if Paul were joking.

Daryl still looked uncertain so Paul stepped closer. This meant going down a step and relinquishing his higher ground so he had to look up at Daryl once more. Didn’t matter. He thought that sometimes Daryl liked being able to crowd into him, using his size to his advantage when they were alone together, safe and private behind a locked door, with all night to explore. Paul pulse quickened at the thought, face heating up. It was another act. They both knew Paul could push back quite easily (and in fact, Daryl liked knowing it). The only time they’d ever fought was back when they first met and Paul had kicked his ass (until Daryl cheated and pulled a gun on him). Something he liked to tease Daryl about occasionally. 

_“How ‘bout a rematch?” Daryl had once growled out, before tackling him into bed and pinning him, using distracting hands, lips and sinfully moving hips… Paul quipped that he wasn’t sure Daryl could have used that technique back on that road, in front of Rick, all those years ago, but he wouldn’t have minded trying._

“Tell me,” Paul whispered, peering up at him appealingly, a hint of pleading in his voice. Daryl also liked his eyes. He’d once confessed to Paul and it had only made him melt just a little…

Daryl’s breathing hitched and suddenly there were only a few respectable inches between them. Too public, too many jobs to do in the day. Paul could feel the heat of his body as Daryl hovered so close. He wanted to close the distance so badly. 

And then Daryl was reaching out, trailing rough skin along the curve of his eyebrow, grazing his temple with the tips of his fingers. It took every last iota of Paul’s willpower not to sway into him. His touch was soothing and also exciting somehow.

“D’you know, you get these lines when you smile?” Daryl asked shyly. He stroked at smooth skin and Paul simply melted. “Right here.” He traced the corner of his eye and Paul leaned into the touch. Daryl trailed his fingers over his cheekbone, lightly grazing his beard before dropping back to his side once more leaving Paul a little stunned.

Paul felt light headed, his thoughts slowing until he had trouble following Daryl’s words.

“Uh huh?” Very intelligent and dignified. He had to kiss him. There was no other way. He had to and so he did, passers by be damned.

He linked his hand with Daryl’s, the very one that had just touched him like that. His grip was warm and dry. He used it to pull Daryl closer, other hand reaching to the back of his neck so he could gently pull him down.

Their lips met and it was fire. Tempered fire, a promise of more to come once they were alone together. It was a thank you. It was a _you’re such a dork._ And an _I love you._ It was an _I’m so glad you’re here with me because I’m not sure I can do this without you._

He hoped Daryl realised this. 

He sucked lightly on his lower lip, stroked the hairs of his nape causing Daryl to sigh raggedly into him. Paul’s blood raced at the sound. He teased the seam of Daryl lips with his tongue and Paul somehow ended up pressed against one of the porch support beams, Daryl looming over him. It was probably for the best when Daryl pulled back with a heavy sigh. He had been getting carried away. They both had. Daryl rested his head against Paul’s and they simply enjoyed the moment.

Breathing heavy and probably stood too close for public decency, Paul had to break the tension somehow. At least until day’s end when he could drag Daryl back to his trailer like a caveman and continue this _discussion_ somewhere private.

He was proud of how steady his voice came out. He didn’t feel steady. Tension thrummed through his entire body and his knees felt weak. “Just to clarify, you came over here to tell me I’m getting wrinkles?”

Daryl sighed heavily and pulled back but his exasperation was clearly fake. “Laugh lines.” Daryl clarified with a roll of his eyes. Then his expression sobered up, suddenly shy as he looked at his feet. “You’re happy. It’s a good look on you.”

Paul remembered that he had been smiling about the community when Daryl had strolled over. He felt a blush work its way over his face. He wasn’t a blusher usually. He called it the Daryl Dixon Effect. He guessed with some surprise that he was happy these days. Hilltop was safe, there was enough food to go round, no more warring groups. It was as close to peace as they could find in a world where the dead were walking. 

And then there was Daryl. 

“ _You_ make me happy.” It slipped out before he could talk himself out of it. Like he told Maggie, he didn’t do ‘settling down.’ He didn’t do steady relationships. Now there was Hilltop, and they were his people who for some crazy reason, chose to follow him. 

Now there was Daryl.

He had a home, something he’d never had before. And it wasn’t the place, but the people in it. He gets that now.

Daryl squeezed his hand lightly, nodded slightly, still not meeting his gaze. But Paul could see the pleased expression on his face. He’d embarrassed himself, sure, they both had. They were terrible at this kind of talk. But he knew Daryl was pleased to hear he was a big part of the reason Paul was so happy here. He needed to know that.

”I better get back to work.” Paul said regretfully, overwhelmed by how much he didn’t want to let this man go. _Responsibilities._ He had a meeting with the agricultural team leaders with Tara overseeing the proceedings (and prodding him in the ribs if his eyes glazed over). Dear God help him, he was a _politician._

Daryl pulled away and began to walk back to whatever task the sight of Paul had pulled him away from. 

“Alright mighty leader. Won’t take up any more of your precious time.” He drawled, trying to keep his face blank though the expression in his eyes was positively wicked.

It was an old joke. Daryl was wearing it out.

“Don’t start that again.” He grinned as Daryl backed away.

“Got Earl working on that crown.”

Paul winced, hoping he was joking. Even King Ezekiel drew the line at _that._ “You’re lucky you’re so hot!” He shouted so that everyone could hear them.

And when Daryl did an exaggerated bow in response, the only thing he could do was flip him off. Paul felt that some customs should not be allowed to die with the old world and that sure was one of them.

Daryl swaggered off and Paul watched him leave with a smile. He was going to give one of his loyal subjects hell tonight.

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**Author's Note:**

> **Damn, I made myself sad. This was just meant to be a drabble about Tom Payne’s cute laughter lines but somehow became: ‘What if Paul was leader of Hilltop with someone to actually support him?’ Do let me know what you thought.**
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> **I do have a long fic filed away somewhere. But I couldn’t finish it after that episode aired. Hopefully one day I will. This was just a warm up.**


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